The Trial
by MoAirBear
Summary: This is how the show should end. Puts a final closure to what the main bad guy has coming to him.


"The Trial"

Location: Federal Court House, St. Louis, Missouri

Time: 11 years after "The Day"

"All rise for the honorable Lucas McHill," barked the courtroom bailiff. The room rose as the unsmiling man in black robes entered the room.

"Be seated," said the black-robed judge, as he settled into the high-backed chair overlooking the courtroom.

"This doesn't look good," whispered the defense attorney to his client. "But I think we've got a chance of winning this case of treason against you."

"You just do your job," replied the defendant. "I've personally seen or know that all the people who could testify against me are either dead or in hiding. The ex-president of the Western Alliance died when his plane went down over the Rockies when he tried to flee Cheyenne and all the members of Project Red Bell are gone into the ground. All the records have been destroyed or altered, so I'm safe."

"I hate my job," replied the defense attorney. "Defending people like you."

"You have a job to do, so do it."

"Is the government ready to begin? Asked the judge.

"The people are ready," replied the Federal Attorney. He rose and looked over at the jury and then at the defendant, "We will forgo the opening statement and go immediately to our first witness."

"I object!" yelled the defense attorney, coming to his feet.

"Overruled," said the judge. "You can have your opening statement when you begin the defense portion of this trial."

"The people call..." The government attorney smiled. "Mr. Robert Hawkins."

"WHAT!" yelled out the defendant as he spun around in his chair as the door to the courtroom opened and in came a now-graying African-American male, using a cane to walk down the aisle towards the witness chair. Hawkins looked into the eyes of the defendant as he passed and gave a small smile, but the smile did not continue to his own eyes as the memories came rushing back. He slowly got into the witness chair using his one good arm.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

The Federal attorney rose from his chair and approached the witness. "Mr. Hawkins, please describe in your own words the events leading up to the nuclear attack on our country and what you know of the plot itself."

Hawkins nodded, "It all started when I was sent from my position in the Central Intelligence Agency to a secret meeting with the defendant and others at the headquarters of the Department of Homeland Security..."

The defendant sat with his mouth open and sweat formed on his bald head. "Oh my god," he thought. "I thought this bastard was dead, he could ruin everything." He turned to his defense attorney.

"You'd better do something to derail his testimony," he snarled.

The attorney looked like he was about to gag, "I'll do my best."

------------

Three months later, the defendant was marched out of his cell in the Federal Courthouse, across the street to the park just west of the building. There stood a simple gallows. The defendant was escorted by members of the US Army's 82nd Airborne, there had been an argument that since the gallows stood on Missouri land, then the escort should be Missouri Guardsmen, however this request was denied.

The defendant was taken up the stairs to the platform. There he waited with the hangman's noose securely in place while the charges that he had been found guilty of were read aloud.

He looked over the crowd that stood silently before him. In the crowd were people he had never met, but whose actions had helped bring about the destruction of the Western States attempt to destroy the United States.

Mixed in the crowd were members of the now-disbanded Task Force MoBear, the still-active 82nd Airborne, Nebraska and Missouri National Guardsmen, along with civilians like a middle-aged man who had traveled all the way from California to Illinois to find his family and others like him who had lost so much from the disaster.

The defendant continued to scan the crowd for someone he knew; maybe just maybe someone would save him at the last second. Then his eyes locked onto a face he recognized, "that pimple on my ass!" he thought.

Standing in the middle of a mix of civilians and military personnel was a man he truly hated, the man who had caused more problems than anyone else for him, more than that damned Hawkins, who stood next to him in the crowd.

The defendant looked at the face of the man who had done so much without realizing the damage he had done and saw the slight smile the man had on his face, that g--damned Har....

The trap door opened and the defendant dropped through.

The dead body of Thomas Valente, the greatest traitor since General Benedict Arnold, swung slowly back and forth.

The final chapter had been written.


End file.
